


Between my heart and my lungs (where I hide you forever)

by CrimsonBitch



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:01:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonBitch/pseuds/CrimsonBitch
Summary: Iwaizumi knew better than anyone that grieving looked different to everyone. For some, it was accepting and moving on. For others, it was moving away and forgetting that the person ever existed.For Iwaizumi, it meant learning to live with the fact that no matter how fast he turned, he would never catch his best friend following behind him. Only the empty space left behind by the first boy he ever loved.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Between my heart and my lungs (where I hide you forever)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,
> 
> If you didn't get this from the summary, this fic is about Iwaizumi trying to move on after Oikawa dies. If that bothers you then don't read it I guess but there's nothing really graphic.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath. The rest of the team had already filed into the Karasuno gym except for him. It didn’t really matter, he supposed, considering he wouldn’t be playing anyway. Still, he didn’t want to let the team down by missing their first practice match in three months. 

* * *

“ _We contacted the captain over at Karasuno,” Matsukawa said quietly, sliding into the desk next to Iwaizumi, “They agreed to have a practice match.”_

_“That’s great for you guys,” Iwaizumi answered, deftly avoiding the elephant in the room._

_“Will you be joining us?” Matsukawa asked, also intentionally vague. “You know the captain position is open for you if you - if you decide to come back.”_

_Iwaizumi’s head shot up, eyes burning. “That’s it, huh? You want me to be the captain? Huh? You want me to wear his jersey and traipse around the court and pretend like he didn’t exist? Fuck you, Matsukawa.”_

_“That’s not - I didn’t - ”_

_“Face it, we’re not a team anymore. I don’t think we ever will be again.”_

_“Hajime - we’ve been practicing for a month now. Just because you haven’t been coming doesn’t mean - ”_

_“You know what? Go ahead. Play you’re match against Karasuno and make yourself the fucking captain! I don’t care anymore! I can’t play into your ridiculous charade!” Iwaizumi hissed._

_The conversation was starting to draw the attention of a handful of other students in the room, but they knew better than to stare considering what they could guess the two were talking about._

_“It’s not the same,” Matsukawa finally conceded, slowly standing up, “But we’re adapting. We’re just trying to cope, same as you.”_

_“Yeah? Well maybe I don’t feel like coping by replacing him and pretending he was never fucking there.”_

_“That’s not what we’re - ” Matsukawa exhaled, realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere. He spun around, intending to march out the door, but at the last moment turned back towards Iwaizumi, who was glaring heatedly in his direction. “Just come to the practice match Hajime. I know you haven’t played since…” He trails off for a moment. “You can just come and watch. He wouldn’t have wanted you to… Just come watch.”_

_“You don’t know fuck-all about what he would’ve wanted” Iwaizumi muttered, turning back to his lunch, although he knew the other boy was right. He could run from this, but he couldn’t run forever._

_He hadn’t entered the Seijoh gym since it happened, but maybe the Karasuno gym would be an easier starting place. Eventually, he’d have to come to terms with the fact that Aoba Josiah was still playing, even if Oikawa wasn’t on the court anymore._

* * *

Now, standing in front of the gym doors, he was less sure of himself than he had been a week ago sitting in that classroom. He could feel a faint itch in his shoulder where Oikawa would have slapped it, reciting sarcastic platitudes and causing Iwaizumi to chase him into the building, forgetting all about his nerves. 

Iwaizumi didn’t think that he or Oikawa ever realized that they were comforting the other until it was over and done with. While Iwaizumi needed distraction from his nerves so that he could focus, Oikawa needed reassurance and control over the situation. Iwaizumi had lost count of how much sleep he had lost before matches because he volunteered to go over to Oikawa’s and let the boy recite strategies to him long into the night. 

He never realized how much he really relied on Oikawa until Oikawa was no longer there to rely on.

It was things like this that made it hard for Iwaizumi to categorize their relationship. There was the comfort and the frequent kissing (and other things that he never told anyone about) that pointed them in a certain direction. Despite this, they never labeled themselves as anything. Even when the team would mock them for arguing like a married couple, they never questioned the relationship between the boys. It was always just Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi couldn’t say that he lost a friend, nor that he lost a boyfriend. All he could know for sure was that it hurt like losing a piece of himself would hurt. Something in his chest had slipped through his fingers, cascading down into the depths of his memory, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to touch that part of himself again. 

* * *

_Iwaizumi walked through the door to his house. The first thing he noticed was how quiet his house was. His mother’s car was in the driveway, but typically she’d be blasting terrible pop music and singing while she worked on whatever piece she happened to be painting or constructing at any given moment. The lack of energy was unnerving and made his stomach turn with unease._

_“Mom?” Iwaizumi called out, searching the house for her. “Mom!?!”_

_He found her sitting at the dining room table, phone in her hands and tears streaming down her face._

_“Mom? What happened?” He hissed urgently. His mom was nothing if not strong, keeping the whole family together when his father left, and seeing her this vulnerable terrified him._

_“Sit down, baby,” she said, patting the chair next to her. He sat down, grateful for the suggestion because his legs were shaking so bad that he thought he might have collapsed. He wasn’t sure what this could be about. Anxiety and suspense clawed at his chest and the longer she went without speaking, the harder they dug._

_“Is it Grandma? Grandpa?” Iwaizumi asked, and she shook her head, bringing on a new wave of tears._

_“It’s Tooru, baby,” she said quietly, “His mother’s car was hit while she was driving him home from practice. She’s fine but Tooru… He couldn't- he didn’t make it through the ambulance ride.”_

_Iwaizumi only stared at her, her voice being drowned out by a horrible ringing in his ears._

_It wasn’t possible. He had seen Oikawa less than an hour ago at practice, had he not? There’s no way he could…_

_“I’m so sorry, honey,” his mother said, dragging him into a hug. He didn’t realize he was muttering the word ‘no’ repeatedly until she started shushing him gently._

_The way his mother was holding him reminded him of many a night spent in a similar position with Oikawa, and the image of the setter’s soft hands wrapped around his own sent a sharp pang through Iwaizumi’s chest. The idea that he could never feel that tight embrace again… thinking about it made his head hurt._

_“He’s… he’s gone?” Iwaizumi asked quietly, still in disbelief. His mother pulled back, grabbing one of his hands between her own soft, smaller ones._

_“Yes. But you listen here, okay? This might be the hardest thing you’ll ever go through. Harder than getting into high school and harder than your father leaving, but you’re gonna get through it. You have me and your sister, and Mr. and Mrs. Oikawa, as well as a whole team of boys that will be there for you.”_

_Iwaizumi shook his head hard. He didn’t want any of those things. He wanted Oikawa. His Oikawa._

_“I - I can’t believe...” Iwaizumi muttered as his face finally crumpled, hot tears burning his cheeks as his mother drew him in for another hug._

_“I know honey. I know. But you’re going to be okay,” she muttered, kissing his hair and letting him soak her shirt with hot tears._

_The funeral was a few weeks later, and Iwaizumi hated every second of putting the suit on. He knew that if Oikawa saw him like that, he’d probably make fun of him for not being able to tie a tie, but still kiss him when he ended up having to tie it for him. Oikawa had always said there was something about a man in a suit…_

_Either way, Iwaizumi could barely listen as people gave their eulogies. Kids from their school and family alike, there to mourn someone they’d never know in the way Iwaizumi did. He knows he could’ve given a speech if he wanted to, but he’d never be able to do it._

_He could never publicly fawn over Oikawa the way others did, choosing instead to keep his praise for the boy in personal, intimate moments. Moments he would never feel again._

_Afterwards, when Iwaizumi was standing outside the church, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun and saw Oikawa’s mother standing behind him. She seemed dimmed somehow, and appeared to have lost weight since they last met._

_“Oikawa-san,” he said, unsure of how to continue. “I’m - sorry for your loss.”_

_“Oh, please,” she smiled sadly. “Don’t give me the platitudes, Hajime. You’re the only person outside of the family I know feels the same way as me.”_

_He didn’t know what to say. He thought that having someone acknowledge his suffering would feel good. Still, right now all he wanted to do was curl up on the sidewalk and never move again._

_“He loved you,” she continued, “more than anything. We never pushed him to tell us what you two had, but you - you always made him happy”_

_“Thank you, Oikawa-san,” he ground out._

_“I don’t know if I should tell you this,” she choked, tears welling in her eyes, “But if I don’t say it now I’ll never be able to. You’re the last person he asked for. In the ambulance, he told me ‘I want Iwa-chan… Tell Iwa-chan I love him.’”_

_Iwaizumi couldn’t feel his hands again. The world around him was drowning out of focus. He felt out of breath, like he had been punched in the gut. There was a sharp pain stabbing in his chest, somewhere behind his heart but in front of his lungs._

_Nevertheless_ , _he pulled Oikawa’s mother in for a hug, upset at how thin the woman felt. Then it hit him. The last person Oikawa asked for wasn’t even his own mother. He can’t imagine how that must feel for her._

_“I’m sorry… that it was me.” He tried to cobble together an apology. “Sorry it wasn’t you or… or- ”_

_“No, no Hajime, honey” she said, pulling back and touching his face, “I know he loved me, and I don’t want you to feel guilty at all. I told you because I know you, and I know you’ve been reliving every minute you spent with him. Wishing for what could’ve been different. I told you because I wanted you to know that regardless of anything that could’ve happened between the two of you, my boy loved you more than anything in the world. I thought you could use that right now.”_

_Iwaizumi looked at her, and she pulled him back in for a hug. He squeezed her and breathed in. It wasn’t the same smell as Oikawa, but you could tell that they lived in the same house and that was almost enough. That alone was enough to spring hot tears to Iwaizumi’s eyes._

_Here, standing with his arms wound around Oikawa-san’s shoulders, was the first time it really hit him. Oikawa was gone, and he wasn’t coming_ _back_ _._

* * *

Iwaizumi walked into the gym quietly, not yelling or calling out the names of his teammates like he used to. In fact, the only person to notice his arrival was Karasuno’s number 12.

“Hey, Iwaizumi, right?” the boy said, walking over to him. Iwaizumi nodded. 

“Sorry, I don’t remember your name…”

“Yamaguchi, but I’m not a starter so don’t feel too bad. I couldn’t name half the guys on your team if I tried.” He let out with an awkward chuckle.

“Oh yeah,” Iwaizumi, “You’re the one that fucked up that jump float at our first game together.”

Yamaguchi winced, but thankfully didn’t seem too bitter. “Yeah. I’ve gotten a lot better since that,” he muttered. 

“I’m sure you have,” Iwaizumi nodded. The boy that stood before him seemed a lot more confident and collected than he had at their first match. 

They stood in silence for a moment, watching the two teams chat and catch up. Iwaizumi moved towards the bleachers, but Yamaguchi caught his wrist. 

“Listen, Iwaizumi. I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, we may be enemies or whatever, but none of us would wish this on you,”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, eyes searching for a number one jersey within the Seijoh players. “Me neither.”

There was no captain’s jersey to be found, he realized with a relieved breath.

It wasn’t until he was settled on the sidelines that his team noticed his arrival. Matsukawa and Yahaba seemed to have a hushed conversation before Yahaba made his way towards Iwaizumi. He crouched in front of him, embracing his knees in his arms. The motion was something Iwaizumi had seen Oikawa do countless times, and he felt the familiar clench in his heart. 

“We’re glad you came. Matsukawa said you probably wouldn’t.”

“I almost didn’t,” he responded gruffly. 

“We aren’t trying to replace him, Hajime. Nobody could.” Iwaizumi frowned, but did appreciate Yahaba’s bluntness. If Matsukawa had been the one to come over, they might have talked for ten minutes before addressing Iwaizumi’s obvious problem. 

Iwaizumi felt his defenses rise. He wanted to yell at the poor boy, but instead he let out a hard exhale. “I know.” He knew that better than anyone.

“Listen, none of us were as close with him as you were, but… we’re all feeling it, okay? If you ever want to talk to us, we’re all here for you. Volleyball or no volleyball, we’re still a team.”

“Thanks, Yahaba.” 

Realizing he wasn’t going to get the older boy on the court, Yahaba stood and began to walk away. 

“Yahaba?” Iwazumi called out, getting the other boy's attention. “You’re a good setter, okay? I don't think you’re trying to replace him or anything, you’re just… you’re a good setter.”

Yahaba smiled, but his eyes held a certain sadness. While Iwaizumi had done a stellar job of avoiding the team for the past three months, he was now realizing there was a chance they were feeling just as guilty for going on with volleyball as he did. Not that he had actually gotten that far yet. 

After talking to Yahaba, Iwaizumi saw that the rest of Karasuno had noticed him too. Most were pointedly avoiding his eyes, except for the captain and vice captain, who both gave him a kind nod. And the little ginger one who, in an impressive display of not reading the room, gave him a grin and an lively wave. 

Luckily, their black-haired setter promptly smacked him upside the head before Iwaizumi had the chance to glare. 

The match started. It was clear that Karasuno wasn’t going in at full strength, given that Aoba Josiah was just trying to get their footing as a team once again. It was odd; sure, they were down two of their key players, but by watching them you’d think they had all met that same day. 

Iwaizumi was cringing at the amount of missed passes and spikes that didn’t connect. All the players were doing fine on their own, but together they were unable to mesh in the way they had been doing for years. It wasn’t as shocking as it should’ve been. Oikawa had always been the glue just as much as he was the leader. 

If it had been only Iwaizumi out he imagines they’d be okay, but without their captain it seemed their ship was inevitably destined to sink. 

About twenty minutes into the match, Seijoh was finally finding a rhythm. It was like watching a newborn deer take its first steps. They might be shaky and unsure, but you can’t help but be proud of them anyways. 

Neither team was keeping score, and Iwaizumi could see some of the Karasuno players congratulate Aoba Johsai when their plays worked out. Iwaizumi could imagine a faint voice (that sounded like Oikawa) hiss that Karasuno took pity on them and didn’t see them as a threat. Still, Iwaizumi kept eyes on his own guys, nodding when the strategies went well and grimacing when they backfired. 

Everytime he imagined himself out there with them, Iwaizumi felt the pit in his stomach grow wider. He knows that even missing three months of practice, he’d be a valuable asset to them. Maybe even help them hold their own against Karasuno. 

_It’s what he would’ve wanted,_ Iwaizumi thinks, before closing his eyes and banishing the thought from his mind. A lump of guilt settled itself in his throat, and telling himself it was misplaced didn’t make it go away. 

Instead, he focused on the match. He may not be able to force himself to play but at least if he offered constructive criticism, he wouldn’t be totally useless. 

He lost track of time, his thoughts overwhelmed by advice and critique and praise for his teammate. His one-track mind was nothing but helpful as he pushed any and all feelings of crushing guilt from his brain, focusing all his energy on ways to get the team working well together again. 

Eventually, they had a really good set going, effectively keeping Karasuno from scoring even if they couldn’t score themselves. It seemed the guys were finally letting go of the pressure of keeping up with Aoba Johsai’s image and instead losing themselves in the game. This relaxation benefitted their playing, but also allowed for the big slip-up. 

It took Iwaizumi a minute to realize what had happened. Kindaichi had received the ball, shooting it up behind him. Instead of rushing to connect, however, the rest of the boys froze. There was total silence as the ball bounced off the court, and Iwaizumi realized what Kindachi had shouted. 

“ _Oikawa! All yours!”_

Nobody knew how to react. Karasuno was as silent and still as their opponent, everyone waiting for someone to move first. Iwaizumi’s ears were ringing again, and his fingers and legs went numb. Someone from Karasuno’s sidelines went to retrieve the ball, handing it to Karasuno’s ace for the serve. He didn’t move, however, his eyes still trained on Kindaichi. 

Kindaichi himself seemed dazed, only breaking when tears welled up in his eyes. Yahaba took the boy’s wrist, pulling him to the sidelines opposite to Iwaizumi. 

If Iwaizumi were truly in the moment just then, he might’ve noticed that there was a fair amount of eyes on him, but all he could feel was the blood pounding in his ears and the acute sensation that all the air had been sucked out of the gymnasium. He stood up on shaking legs, hurrying to the exit and trying to escape the feeling that the walls were closing in. 

He threw the doors open, the afternoon light burning his eyes. He closed the door behind him as he went over to a bench nearby, dropping his head into unsteady hands and allowing himself to catch his breath. 

The scary part, in his opinion, was that it had felt totally natural. He hadn’t reacted to what Kindachi said until he saw the other boys react. Until he was given irrefutable proof that Oikawa wasn’t going to come running to receive the ball. 

One thing Iwaizumi had learned in the past three months is that there’s a big gap between knowing someone is gone and truly feeling the empty space they left behind. 

Iwaizumi was slowly learning to live with the empty space left behind by the boy he loved, but it hurts every time he realizes that the bits and pieces that Oikawa left behind in all of them, such as Yahaba’s funny squat or the alien mug sitting in Iwaizumi’s cabinet even now, were not enough to fill this ever-growing void. 

He was breathing in and out slowly with his eyes closed when he heard footsteps approaching. He couldn’t place them, but then again there was only one set of footsteps he’d know by sound alone. 

“Hey,” someone said. Looking at him, Iwaizumi realizes he didn’t recognize his voice because it wasn’t anyone from Aoba Johsai at all. Instead, it was the captain of Karasuno. _Daichi,_ his brain supplied. 

“Hey” Iwaizumi responded, his voice rougher than he was expecting. 

“You okay?” Daichi asked, sitting down next to him. 

“Yeah. I don’t really know what happened. I just…”

“Couldn’t handle it?”

Iwaizumi shot him a glare, but Daichi raised his hands in defense. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that in an insulting way. I’m surprised you could take watching them play at all. I don’t think I’d be able to.”

“I just - ignored it, I guess.” 

“Yeah.” Daichi said quietly. He would have never admitted it, but Daichi had always been one of Oikawa’s favorite captains. He admired the way Daichi kept the team together without putting himself in the spotlight. Pretty much the opposite of his own style. 

Iwaizumi took a few minutes to collect himself. He wiped the tears that had started falling without him even noticing and wrung his hands together, although that didn’t stop the shaking. 

“Have you been playing with them at all?” Daichi asked. 

“No” Iwaizumi, and suddenly the burning ball of guilt took up residence in his throat again. “I haven’t been able to… I haven’t even touched a ball, to be honest. I probably suck now.” He smiled ruefully. 

“That’s okay,” Daichi said, “You know that’s okay, right? I’m sure you’ve had a million people tell you this, but there’s really no timeline for this, you know? You just have to take it as it comes.” 

“Yeah, I…Three months is a long time though,” Iwaizumi begins, giving voice to the guilt chewing through his esophagus. “I should be able to do something as simple as playing volleyball.” 

“Hey, give yourself some credit,” Daichi half-smiled as he clasped a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, “You’re going through the unimaginable right now. Nobody is pressuring you to get back out there. Except for yourself, I guess. You could get out there right now or you could never play again. Nobody can tell you you’re wrong for what you choose.”

“Well I can hardly _never play again,_ can I?” Iwaizumi huffs.

“Why?” Daichi asks honestly, “You seem like a smart guy and I know Aoba Johsai requires good grades to play. Surely you could find something else if you never feel okay with volleyball.”

“Well,” Iwaizumi started, his guilt-addled brain spewing reasoning faster than he could speak, “It’s not like I...It wouldn’t be fair to...It’s what he would’ve wanted…” 

“How so?” Daichi said, calm in the face of Iwaizumi’s rambling. 

“I mean, that _is_ what he would’ve wanted, right?” Iwaizumi choked, his throat feeling like it’s closing around his next words, “He - he had _such_ a promising future. All the times he and I would talk about plans to play together after highschool, even after college….It was all he wanted. All _we_ wanted. It hardly seems fair that he’ll never get his dream and - and I get to just move on like he was nothing, like _we_ were nothing.”

“But I don’t get -”

“I mean, the world deserved to see him play. The world deserved to have him, you know!?!” Iwaizumi said, tears streaming as he lost his composure, “ _We deserved to have him!_ And I’m never going to be able to be him but it’s the least I can do to carry on what he would’ve done if he was still - if he could still - ” 

Iwaizumi’s words were lost in his quiet sobs, and Daichi wrapped a strong arm around the other boy’s shoulders. Suddenly, Iwaizumi realized the advantage of being on a team with someone like Daichi. He didn’t need the spotlight, but the team needed his quiet support as much as they needed their star players. 

“Hajime, I don’t… I can’t… no, _screw that!_ ” Daichi sputtered. Iwaizumi was momentarily taken back by the other man’s anger. 

“What?” Iwaizumi muttered.

“Sorry,” came a third voice from behind the pair. Iwaizumi turned around and saw the Karasuno vice captain. “Daichi can be surprisingly tactless when it comes to emotional stuff.” Suga says this sweetly, sitting down in the spot on the other side of Iwaizumi. 

“He’s right,” Daichi says, giving Suga a fond look that sends a shooting pain through Iwaizumi’s heart. “That was a bad way to put it, but what I’m trying to say is - it that - ”

“What he’s trying to say,” Suga cut in, having heard Iwaizumi’s rant from before, “is that you can’t be sure that’s what he would’ve wanted.”

“How’s that? I mean what else would he have wanted?”

“I didn’t know you guys but from what I’ve seen and how your team talked about the two of you…Oikawa loved you, Hajime, more than anything. I think he would’ve wanted you to be happy. Sure, volleyball was his dream, but I can’t imagine him wanting you to sacrifice your own happiness to carry out that dream.” The speech sounded like something straight out of a ‘How to Comfort the Bereaved' textbook, but Iwaizumi was still taken back slightly by the words. 

“Playing volleyball always made me happy.” He muttered. 

Sugawara hesitated before responding to that. “Was it playing volleyball you loved, or was it playing volleyball with Oikawa?” This inspired a new round of burning tears from Iwaizumi; he knew the other boy was correct, but it hurt to hear. 

“My plan has always been volleyball,” he muttered, “All I ever needed was volleyball and _him_ , and I’ve already lost one of those things. Can I really throw away the other like that?”

“You’re not throwing anything away, Iwaizumi,” Suga reassured, “You’re just not pursuing it right now. Nobody would be upset with you”

“ _I_ would,” Iwaizumi says quietly. 

“Yeah, looks that way.” Daichi grimaces. “Look, Iwaizumi, we can’t tell you for sure what he would’ve thought, because we didn’t know him. You knew him better than anyone, so ask yourself if he _really_ would’ve wanted you putting yourself through this self-destructive guilt cycle in his name.”

Iwaizumi hadn’t thought about it like that. He would never _try_ to make Oikawa responsible for his own emotional masochism but, by doing it to honor Oikawa, that’s exactly what was happening. 

“Besides,” Daichi continued, “It doesn’t have to be forever. Maybe one day you’ll rediscover a love for it. When that time comes, you’ve got a whole team of boys standing with you. And Karasuno is standing with you too. You wouldn’t have to do it alone.”

Iwaizumi nodded to both of them. He didn’t have anything to say, and for the millionth time in the past three months, he was hit by the poignantly sharp longing to have Oikawa there with him. Oikawa would’ve known what to say. 

“Look,” Daichi started, fishing for something in his pocket. “You don’t have to decide now. Here’s a spare key to our gym. Stay behind after we all leave today and try a few shots. See how you feel. Just lock up when you leave, please.”

Iwaizumi smiled distantly. “Oikawa would’ve kept the key and snooped through anything he could find to try and discover some of your playbooks or video footage of your matches.” 

“Well, you aren’t him. I trust you, Iwaizumi.” 

Iwaizumi nodded, thankful that neither had questioned his unspoken aversion to going to his own gymnasium. He turned the key over, hot and heavy like a stone in his hand. 

Daichi and Suga were standing up, but Daichi touched his shoulder before he left. “We’re here for you, Iwaizumi. Me, Suga, and the rest of Karasuno. You may be carrying the brunt of it, but you aren’t doing it alone.” 

Iwaizumi nodded, and watched as they made their way back into the building. 

The sun was still beating down, and Iwaizumi felt more exhausted than if he had run a marathon. He wandered around for a while, not wanting to talk to any of his teammates when they left. He’d have a conversation with them soon, but today his emotions were on a hair trigger and he didn’t feel like adding a complete breakdown to the list of things they’d need to feel guilty about. 

His mind mulled over what both Karasuno captains had said to him so intently that it took him a while to realize that the guilt burning the back of his throat was little more than smouldering coal. Painful, sure, but manageable. 

_No time like the present, I guess,_ he thought as he turned the key over in his trembling hands, and waited for the two teams two finish up and leave the gymnasium. 

* * *

_The first thing Iwaizumi noticed when he woke up was that it wasn’t even light out. The freezing cold air in the room registered next, along with the pain in his neck from having slept on the floor._

_He felt the weight of Oikawa’s head on his stomach, their fingers loosely tangled despite their bodies being awkwardly intertwined. A glance at his surroundings reminded him that they were working on a project for school when they apparently fell asleep._

_He didn’t want to disturb the brunette boy, but he saw that they had left the window open, and the wind was making the room freezing cold._

_He started gently shifting Oikawa’s limbs, and had almost gotten out clean when the other boy groaned and stretched._

_“Did we fall asleep? What time is it?” Oikawa croaked, rubbing his eyes with the slightly-too-long sleeves of Iwaizumi’s hoodie. The other boy wasn’t sure when he’d even stolen it._

_Iwaizumi stopped, staring at the boy for a moment. Oikawa always acted differently in the late night and the early morning: soft and sweet, too tired to put on the self-assured, cocky mask he wore to keep most people in his life at an arm's length. Iwaizumi always savoured this version of Oikawa that seemed to be reserved just for him._

_Oikawa gave him an odd look for staring, but Iwaizumi just took his hand and pulled him up, pushing him towards the bed while he went to close the window._

_“Go back to bed. It’s early.”_

_“It’s five thirty,” Oikawa said, a grin slowly spreading across his features._

_“Yeah. On a Saturday. Let’s go back to bed” Iwaizumi nodded, not liking the devious smile that was overtaking Oikawa’s face._

_“Hajime, do you remember what you said to me last Tuesday night?”_

_Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, climbing into Oikawa’s bed. “What is this, a fuckin’ police investigation? Get in bed dumbass.”_

_“You said that if I gave you the last green tea mochi…”_

_“Tooru, No. Absolutely not.”_

_“You said you’d go morning swimming with me! You promised, Iwa-chan!” the brunette boy whined quietly. Nowhere near his normal, obnoxious tone._

_“Promises don’t apply at five thirty on saturday, Shitty-kawa”_

_Oikawa straddled Iwaizumi, leaning down until their noses were almost touching._

_“Please” *poke* “come *poke* “swimming” *poke* “with me” *poke*_

_Iwaizumi groaned, but held Oikawa’s gaze. His nose was red from the chill in the room, but his eyes were sparkling._

_Iwaizumi liked to think was a strong person, both physically and emotionally. He was stubborn as a mule and couldn’t compromise to save his life. Despite all this, his Achilles heel had always been the conspiratorial glimmer in Oikawa’s eye when he had a plan. After getting in trouble together as kids, his mother would look at him and hiss “What were you thinking!?”, but the truth was that he wasn’t thinking at all._

_All Oikawa had to do was turn towards him with a soft grin and devious look in his eyes, and Iwaizumi would follow him to the ends of the Earth. He was a goner for the boy long before he ever admitted it to himself._

_“Fuck you, Tooru,” Iwaizumi muttered as he climbed out of the bed._

_Oikawa squealed, throwing his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck from behind. Iwaizumi ducked his head so that Oikawa couldn’t see his reluctant smile as the other boy showered the back of his head and neck with chaste kisses._

_They put sweats on, Iwaizumi tossing Oikawa a scarf and beanie and earning him an eye roll from the other boy as he put them on._

_“I hope you realize how cold it’s gonna be,” Iwaizumi said, placing his hand on Oikawa’s lower back as they snuck their way through the house._

_“Nonsense,” Oikawa looked back with a smile. “I have you to warm me up”_

_“You’re the worst, Trashy-kawa. Literally the worst.”_

_“If only you believed that,” Oikawa smirked. Iwaizumi smacked his head, but pressed a kiss into his hair right after._

_They got into Iwaizumi’s excuse for a car. Oikawa always complained about the heating or the radio or the bumpiness, but the boy didn’t have a car of his own, so he didn’t really have any room to judge._

_Besides, by now the two of them had spent enough time in the car that they had a sort of attachment to the piece of junk. Memories of day trips to the city and make out sessions and midnight fast food were imprinted in the car like ink stains, so Oikawa’s complaints always held a fond tone._

_“It’s freezing in here,” Oikawa whined._

_“The sun’s just starting to go up, idiot. It’s fucking cold.” Iwaizumi said, but still took both of Oikawa’s freezing hands in one of his warmer ones._

_They drove in silence, the radio playing something quiet. Iwaizumi didn’t need directions. When they were in elementary school, the boys discovered a path in the woods that led to a small sandy alcove in a local lake. It was surrounded by trees, so they had been using it mostly as a skinny dipping location on hot summer nights where it had felt remarkably difficult to keep their hands off each other._

_When they pulled off to the side of the road, they got out and started down the wooded path. Oikawa trailed behind Iwaizumi, holding onto the other boy’s shirt._

_He hadn’t brought his glasses and it still wasn’t light enough for him to confidently navigate the messy trail._ _When they finally broke through the trees, the sun was truly coming up. The sky was beautiful with shades of red and purple bleeding into oranges and yellows. He would never admit it, but Iwaizumi was glad Oikawa had dragged him out here, even if he hadn’t really needed that much dragging._

_He turned slightly to watch the boy himself. Both boys had changed significantly since they first met, but Oikawa had never lost his child-like obsession with the sky. Whether they were watching the stars from Iwaizumi’s garage roof or the sunrise from a hidden alcove in a lake, the sky would capture all of Oikawa’s attention, typically ending any chance of conversation._

_Iwaizumi didn’t mind, of course. In recent years he had taken to watching the boy when he didn’t realize he was being watched. The wide eyes and loose smile always did funny things to Iwaizumi’s heart._

_Right now, Oikawa couldn’t see as Iwaizumi studied the way the sunrise reflected in his light brown eyes, causing them to glow a golden color. The sight was something to behold. Something Iwaizumi tucked away deep inside his chest, right in the space where he kept all his favorite parts of the boy._

_Oikawa did always like to tease him for being possessive._

_“I hope you don’t think I’m getting in first, Shitty-kawa.”_

_“Of course not” Oikawa grinned, pulling his shirt and pants off. Iwaizumi grinned stupidly as Oikawa jumped into the water and came to the surface with a screech. “It’s soooo cold Iwa-Chan! Get in here and warm me up!”_

_Iwaizumi rolled his eyes but stripped and ran into the water with a similar screech. He splashed the boy and dove under. Underwater, he grabbed one of Oikawa’s ankles, spurring a yelp and loss of footing from the other._

_Their heads popped out of the water at the same time. Iwaizumi lined up to splash the other boy again, but Oikawa grabbed Iwaizumi’s face with both his hands. He pulled Iwaizumi’s face in close, and Iwaizumi felt the breath rush out of his chest. Stupid Oikawa and his stupid long fingers and his stupid pretty eyes._

_“Thanks for letting me drag you out here. Even if it was just to make me happy,” Oikawa said quietly._

_“Mmmm…” Iwaizumi hummed thoughtfully, “Not worth it.”_

_“Liar,” Oikawa grinned, and kissed him. It was warm and sweet and Iwaizumi was going to pass out if his stupid lungs didn’t remember how to breathe soon._

_They swam around and splashed each other and raced to see who could reach the dock first (“Iwa-channn why wouldn’t you let me winnn”). By the time they left the water, they were shivering down to the bone and their clothes were wet, but the sun had risen and was finally warming them up._

_They collapsed side by side in the sand, both shirtless and panting with exertion. Oikawa turned on his side, and Iwaizumi turned his head to meet his eyes._

_“You’re awfully pretty,” Oikawa sighed, “You know that, right, Iwa-chan?”_

_Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and pushed Oikawa’s face away. Oikawa giggled in return._

_“I’m serious. You’re very handsome,” Oikawa laughed, leaning in close again. Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa’s hip, pressing him on his back while Iwaizumi rolled and pressed himself up above Oikawa. The position itself wasn’t unfamiliar to them, but being barred in by Iwaizumi’s thick arms always made Oikawa blush something fierce._

_“That’s more like it. If anyone here is pretty it’s you, pretty boy” Iwaizumi said slowly. Oikawa had a stunned half-smile on his face as he surged up to capture Iwaizumi’s lips._

_It didn’t get much heavier than that. They lazily exchanged kisses and laid with limbs intertwined in the hot sand. Iwaizumi pressed his nose into Oikawa’s hair, which still smelled like the caramel shampoo his whole family (rightfully) made fun of him for._

_Eventually, their stomachs started growling, and they had to get up. In the car, Oikawa connected to the aux and played a loud indie pop song that made Iwaizumi groan. He wouldn’t turn it off though, because listening to Oikawa try to sing along was worth the terrible music. They opened all the windows and Iwaizumi watched as fluffy, air-dried brown hair whipped around the other boy’s head._

_When he felt Oikawa’s hand slip into his, he memorized the feeling of cold, soft fingers against his rough palm._

_Seeing the forest slowly disappear from the rearview mirror and listening to Oikawa’s voice crack horrendously on a high note, Iwaizumi was hit with the urge to turn around._

_If he turned around, he could drag Oikawa back to the beach and push the other boy to the ground and curl up with his nose pressed into his collarbone. He could feel Oikawa’s heartbeat on his chin and hold his breath, waiting for the rest of the world to turn around them. He could live in this stolen moment, pretending that this morning would last forever._

_As he pulled into Oikawa’s driveway, he knew this wasn’t possible. They had lives to live. Lives that they couldn’t waste curled into each other in their secret hideaway until their bodies rotted and decomposed and an archaeologist found their skeletons tangled together._

_For now it was enough to take the sight of the tiny droplets of lake water in Oikawa’s long eyelashes, and nestle it down between his heart and lungs. Right where he keeps everything else about the boy that made Iwaizumi fall wholly and irrevocably in love with him._

* * *

Without the voices of two teams filling the space, Iwaizumi could hear the sound of his shoes squeaking on the court resounding through the high ceilings. Their gymnasium smelled like his own gymnasium, and something went heavy and cold in his chest when he realized this. 

Iwaizumi wasn’t sure what grief-addled epiphany sat at the tip of his fingertips, but he knew that if this was a movie, there would be a musical crescendo and loud sobbing. Maybe he’d scream and punch a wall, and do his best to play up his pain for the camera. He thinks that performing his sadness would be easier than swallowing it, because then at least he could pretend he was bringing Oikawa to the movie premiere to let the boy tease him for how dramatic the scene was. 

As it is though, he doesn't do any of the above. There are no tears. There is no screaming and no punching. There’s no audience to clap as he throws his head forwards to cough and gag his misery all over the floor.

As it is, there is only Iwaizumi. Ears ringing and fingers trembling, he walks up to the basket and pulling out a volleyball. It felt light in his hands, and it wasn’t nearly as monumental as he had half-hoped it would be. That being said, it also didn’t light a fire in his veins like it used to. 

He walked to the end of the court, tossing the ball in the air a few times, bouncing it off the floor and catching it again. He understands now why Kindaichi had said what he said. It felt natural to throw the ball in the air and expect their captain to rush a receive. 

Oikawa had stained himself on the court just like he had stained himself on Iwaizumi’s car and Iwaizumi’s bedroom and their secret spot in the woods and the other million places Iwaizumi can’t go anymore without sensing the empty space standing right next to him. 

Finally, he eyes the other end of the court, and lines up his serve. He takes a shaky breath and runs, jumping and smashing the ball to the other side. Instead of sticking the landing, however, he falls to his knees with his eyes slamming shut. 

The void left behind by his best friend had been following Iwaizumi around for months. Always two steps behind him, like a ghost you can’t catch no matter how fast you turn. Now, however, it felt like this void was encompassing him, wrapping itself around his shaking body like a warm blanket and promising to swallow him whole.

And, _God,_ it felt good. 

If he kept his eyes closed, Iwaizumi could almost hear Oikawa call out to him- “ _Nice serve, Iwa-chan.”_ He felt the boy’s hand on his back, cold and solid and reassuring and real. He could see the manic look in his eyes when he was communicating a play to Iwaizumi without any words at all. 

With his eyes closed, Iwaizumi could pretend like the empty space two steps behind him was full once again, whining about a math test or asking if they could pick up milk bread on their way home. If he kept his eyes closed, he could pretend that opening them meant seeing Oikawa’s face contorted in confusion and excitement like that night in eight grade when Iwaizumi finally worked up the courage to shut him up by pressing their lips together. 

Maybe he’d open his eyes in another reality, where Oikawa was applying to colleges and Iwaizumi was mourning the loss of him in a much more manageable sense of the word. 

Still, it couldn’t last. Iwazumi could feel the cold wood below him. Reality wouldn’t change simply because Iwaizumi didn’t want to face it. There was nothing waiting two steps behind him, and there was nothing waiting to be seen when he opened his eyes. 

So he opened them. 

It wasn’t the revelation he had wanted it to be, but it wasn’t as bad as he had thought it would be either. It just _was_. 

He slowly stood to look around and, confirming he was still alone, wiped the hot tears that were streaming down his face. From deep within him, he felt something collapse into place. 

The thought of volleyball without Oikawa was foreign to Iwaizumi, and the proof that the sport was fundamentally the same with or without the boy was a hard pill to swallow.

With a bittersweet sense of freedom, Iwaizumi shot off spikes and serves and came to the conclusion that no, he did not enjoy volleyball when it wasn’t with Oikawa. Playing without him sucked, but the thought of winning games and not being able to share the overwhelming joy with the brown haired boy was almost too terrible to think about. 

Iwaizumi cleaned up the balls and took down the net, the movements nearly robotic from muscle memory. 

When he left the gym and locked the door behind him, Iwaizumi didn’t feel different on any sort of molecular level. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly felt different, but the storm that had been brewing in his chest for the past three months had calmed. 

He started down the street, his shoes kicking up red dust that looked sort of golden from the light. He paused, swearing he could hear steps behind him. When he turned there was nobody there. Only his own footprints and the bitter scent of grief that tailed him like a sick dog. 

There was no one standing behind him, but there was a beautiful sunset that he hadn’t noticed when he left the gym. He stared as long as he could without hurting his eyes, and even sometime after that. The reds and oranges were familiar, and something felt off-kilter deep inside of him. 

All of a sudden, he’s hit with the image. _Brown eyes… Brown eyes that reflect the sun and look golden._ There’s a sharp pain in his chest, and he feels his surroundings swim as his senses are assaulted by the memory. 

His arms feel heavy after countless serves on the court, but he remembers them feeling the same way after he raced Oikawa to the dock. He could see the same reddish color in the clouds that was dusted high on Oikawa’s cheekbones. He could smell the boy’s caramel hair and the soft weight of his head on his chest. The warm lips on his, and the freezing cold water moving around them as they kissed. All Iwaizumi had wanted then was for the world to continue spinning around them while they laid in the sand.

Now, all he wanted was for the clocks to stop.

He wanted to dig his heels into the dirt and force the world to stop turning through sheer will power.

He wanted to crawl into bed and never crawl back out, unwilling to face the fact that the world was turning and Oikawa wasn’t turning with it.

He wanted to drop to his knees and scream, cursing whatever higher power that had been be cruel enough to do this to him.

He wanted to be able to turn fast enough to catch the brown haired boy behind him. Forever two steps behind him.

However, he did none of this. He turned back around slowly and started towards the bus stop. Whatever good feeling had settled over him after the gym had disappeared. It hadn’t lasted that long; these days, they never did.

His legs felt sore as he trudged the dusty streets. The sun had set and the streets were dim, but not dark. His chest felt heavy, but not in the way it had before. 

Cobwebs of guilt still filled the space in his chest where he kept his favorite memories of Oikawa, but after today, he had swept enough away to see that the small space wasn’t empty. Fate had stolen Oikawa away, but no cruel or greedy hands could ever take away the little bits of the boy that Iwaizumi kept protected in between his heart and lungs for him and him alone. 

When he finally made it home, his mother was making dinner. She could see the lines of stress carve their way through his face, but there was a lighter air about her son that hadn’t been there before. 

He sat at the counter and talked to her about her day instead of making a beeline to his room and this made her smile. He was having a hard time, that much was obvious, but she was glad he wasn’t shutting her out totally. 

That night he pulled the tea kettle out, as well as a little red tea bag he found at the bottom of the junk drawer. He set enough water to boil for one cup, and when his mother entered, she looked strangely at the tea bag in the boy’s hand. 

“What kind is that?” she asked, not recognizing the tea. 

“Rose chamomile,” Iwaizumi said quietly, and his mother laughed. 

“Since when do you drink rose chamomile tea? I dont think I’ve ever seen you drink anything other than green tea in my life”

“Yeah...” He half-smiled. “It was the only one that… Oikawa would drink. He always bitched when he came over and we didn’t have it, so he started bringing his own. Must’ve brought an extra one time, because I found it at the bottom of the drawer.”

“There’s a reason I don’t buy it. It’s gross,” his mother said with a playful frown, and they both laughed lightly before settling back down. 

“How was the game?” his mother asked, after a beat of silence. “That was today, yeah?”

“Yeah. It was fine. I mean…I kinda freaked out and ditched halfway through, but it’s not like I was playing anyway.”

“I’m sure they still appreciated you being there.” 

“Couldn’t run from it forever, I suppose.” 

“Yeah,” she said, weighing her next words for a moment. “I know it can be hard to act like anything’s normal right now, and I’m not saying this to try to guilt you, but… people miss _you_ too.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding what she was talking about. 

“I’m not sure how to...” his mother started hesitantly. “When your father left, I felt like I had nobody to talk to. I wrapped myself up in work and taking care of you kids and it felt a little bit like drowning. It wasn’t until one night when your grandparents offered to take you two that Tooru’s mother came over with a bottle of wine and she and I talked for hours.”

He smiled despite himself. The funeral had been the last time he saw her, and he remembered the absence of the spark in her eyes that had always been there. “I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“We weren’t really, but she always seemed to have a knack for knowing how to be exactly what someone needed.”

Iwaizumi thought about the million times Oikawa had teased and chased him around the court until he was angry enough to forget about how nervous he was.

“Yeah… maybe that was genetic,” Iwaizumi whispered, his mother smiling and taking his hand yet again. 

“What I mean is, you're a friend to every boy on that team before you’re a teammate. They miss talking to you more than they miss playing with you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just - there’s some things that are too hard to put into words right now.”

“I know, baby. I just want to make sure that you know there’s a ton of people willing to sit and wait with you while you find the right words.”

Iwaizumi’s mind was immediately brought back to Daichi’s hand on his back while he comforted him. His words sounded like something his mother would say, and the likeness between the two of them made him smile. 

He thought about the stunned look on his face while Oikawa’s mother surrendered her son’s final words to him. He can only imagine how painful it must’ve been to hand them over like that, but she knew it was the right thing to do. Oikawa’s last words were gifted to her, but she knew they were always meant for Iwaizumi. 

He could only hope that Oikawa knew how many of Iwaizumi’s words were meant for him as well. Every ‘ _Trashykawa’_ and ‘ _Look out dumbass!’_ and late night ‘ _Go to sleep, moron’_ were laced with the same adoration, and every ounce of him hoped that Oikawa had known that. 

He thought about the look in Yahaba and Kindaichi’s eyes when they talked to him, as if they were facing a wild animal they were trying not to spook. It seemed like there was a bridge they felt unable to cross, and Iwaizumi didn’t blame them for being hesitant. He had always been better at pushing people out than letting them in, and there had only ever been one exception. 

One painfully, achingly bitter exception. 

“I know,” he finally conceded. His mother pulled him in for a hug, and he breathed slowly. This day had been an emotional rollercoaster and he tried his best to relax into his mother’s embrace. The sound of the kettle whistling interrupted him. 

He went to the cabinet to find a mug, and his hand brushed the novelty alien mug that had been collecting dust for the past three months in the very back of the cupboard. 

His breath stuttered in his chest for a moment, and he froze. He wasn’t swallowed up by a tidal wave of grief as he feared he may be, but the sight of the ugly alien printed on the cheap mug was enough to startle a reaction out of him. 

Oikawa had given it to him when they were seven years old. The six-week summer camp Oikawa was attending was going to be the longest they had been apart since they met a few years prior. 

Leaning back in her chair, his mother caught sight of what had caused the boy to seize up. 

“I remember the day he got that mug for you,” she said quietly. 

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi nodded, finally exhaling and finishing his tea. “Me too”.

* * *

“ _If_ _you miss me, use this mug and you’ll think of me!” Oikawa smiled brightly as his mom put the last of his bags in her car._

_“I’ll think of you, alright,” Iwaizumi said with a mirthy smile, “The alien’s just as ugly as you, Crappy-kawa.”_

_“Iwa-channn!” Oikawa whined while the slightly shorter boy laughed._

_Iwaizumi tugged the other boy into a hug and helped him climb into his mother’s car. While she was pulling out of the driveway, Iwaizumi saw Oikawa roll the window down and stick his head out the window, waving to Iwaizumi with a big grin. Iwaizumi waved back, and clutched the mug tightly as the car disappeared into the horizon._

_That night, his mom came into his room and saw him sitting up in bed._

_“Hajime, baby, what’s wrong?” she asked, sitting on the edge._

_“Oikawa gave me a mug to remember him while he’s at camp.”_

_“That’s nice of him. What’s the problem?”_

_“What if… what if he forgets about me!? I didn’t get him anything!” Iwaizumi cried, tears forming in his eyes. His mother smiled and pulled him into a tight hug._

_“He’s not gonna forget about you,” she said, pulling back and holding him by the shoulders. “You want to know why?”_

_He nodded, and wiped his eyes._

_“Because you two are best friends. You don’t need trinkets to remember each other. You keep each other right here,” she said, poking his chest with her finger._

_“In my lungs?” Iwaizumi sniffled, startling a bright laugh out of his mother._

_“I was thinking more about the heart, baby,” she said kindly._

_“But that’s where you put people you love, and I don’t love Oikawa. He’s annoying and he always steals the last of my stupid milk bread and his hair smells like stupid caramel,” he whines, his face twisted up in disgust._

" _Fine_ ,” _she says, smiling like she knew something he didn’t. “It doesn’t have to be your heart either. How about somewhere between the two?”_

_He considered it. “I guess that works.”_

_“Perfect then. You and Tooru couldn’t ever forget each other because you keep each other right here" She says, poking his chest again, “between your heart and your lungs. Hidden away where nobody but the two of you will ever see.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I hope you liked it because I put a lot more effort into this than some of my other fics haha. Oikawa is my favorite character and apparently my love language is killing people in fanfiction so oh well. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it (and by enjoyed it I mean cried)
> 
> -V


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